In the dances before us the author satisfies the passion [of writing affectedly and unnaturally] to a loathsome excess.  He is indefatigable, and I might say inexhaustible [sic], in his search for ear-splitting discords, forced transitions, harsh modulations, ugly distortions of melody and rhythm.  Everything it is possible to think of is raked up to produce the effect of odd originality, but especially strange keys, the most unnatural positions of chords, the most perverse combinations with regard to fingering.

After some more discussion of the same nature, he concludes thus:- -

   If Mr. Chopin had shown this composition to a master, the
   latter would, it is to be hoped, have torn it and thrown it
   at his feet, which we hereby do symbolically.

In his review of the “Trois Nocturnes,” Op. 9, occurs the following pretty passage:—­

Where Field smiles, Chopin makes a grinning grimace:  where Field sighs, Chopin groans; where Field shrugs his shoulders, Chopin twists his whole body; where Field puts some seasoning into the food, Chopin empties a handful of Cayenne pepper...In short, if one holds Field’s charming romances before a distorting concave mirror, so that every delicate expression becomes coarse, one gets Chopin’s work...We implore Mr. Chopin to return to nature.

I shall quote one more sentence; it is from a notice of the “Douze Etudes,” Op. 10:—­

   Those who have distorted fingers may put them right by
   practising these studies; but those who have not, should not
   play them, at least, not without having a surgeon at hand.

   [Footnote:  In the number of the Iris in which this criticism
   appeared (No. 5 of Vol.  V., 1834 Rellstab inserts the
   following letter, which he says he received from Leipzig:—­

   “P.  P.

“You are really a very bad man, and not worthy that God’s earth either knows (sic) or bears you.  The King of Prussia should have imprisoned you in a fortress; in that case he would have removed from the world a rebel, a disturber of the peace, and an infamous enemy of humanity, who probably will yet be choked in his own blood.  I have noticed a great number of enemies, not only in Berlin, but in all towns which I visited last summer on my artistic tour, especially very many here in Leipzig, where I inform you of this, in order—­that you may in future change your disposition, and not act so uncharitably towards others.  Another bad, bad trick, and you are done for!  Do you understand me, you little man, you loveless and partial dog of a critic, you musical snarler [Schnurrbart], you Berlin wit-cracker [Witzenmacher], &c.

   “Your most obedient Servant,

   “Chopin.”